Twelve Days of Christmas - Bellarke Style
by perplex777
Summary: My contribution for the prompt on tumblr. Mostly fluff and drabbles, although my entries for Day 3 and and 12 are mature (with Day 3's being particularly explicit). Day 3: 'The ground fell away beneath their feet, and they found themselves in a hole, a tangle of limbs, Clarke's elbow jabbing particularly painfully into his neck while his knee was trapping her arm on the ground.'
1. Secret Santa

A/N: My contribution for the Bellarke 12 Days of Christmas prompt from on tumblr. A little late... posted all at once on Boxing Day, but it was the only way I could produce something for all 12. Mostly fluff and drabbles, some a bit dull I'm afraid (but once you've filled over half the prompts it seems silly not to fill them all), although BE WARNED my entries for Day 3 and 12 are mature (with Day 3's being particularly explicit).

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><p><strong>Day 1 – Secret Santa <strong>

Octavia smiled at the huddled group with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Her conspiratorial grin, suggesting she already had a scheme in motion, made them all a little nervous… there was no way she would be taking a no from any of them.

"So, you know how Clarke wants us all to do this Secret Santa thing, for morale or whatever…" This was not news, but they all leaned in a little closer anyway and continued to wait expectantly. "Well, I say we rig it!" she said gleefully. "We've already got the pool going for their inevitable "_Unity_ Day." The exaggerated wink raised a few snickers. "You all want to see what they'd get each other for Christmas too, right?"

She didn't need to say anymore. Everyone was grinning now.

"Good one O. It would certainly give my morale a boost to watch Bellamy stressing about what to get for his Princess!" chuckled Raven.

There was a general murmur of assent before Monty piped up. "Yeah, it is a great plan O… but I think I've thought of a way to make it even better… we don't just rig it so they have to get a gift for each other. We rig it so we all get something for Bellamy or Clarke. I don't think any of the kids will mind. They've both done so much for us all it's the least we can do."

Miller gave his hand a squeeze of approval, as he leant in for a lingering kiss that spoke of his wonderment and pride at having such a beautiful man to call his own. Monty couldn't help but beam as Nathan sighed, "Perfect…" before turning back to the rest of the group. "It really is the least we can do!"

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><p>It was only after she was given her third present (a heart shaped stone from little Raj) that Clarke realised there was something up. As Murphy came towards her carrying something behind his back, there was no doubt – this was clearly more than just a mishap. She went to find Bellamy.<p>

Walking into his quarters, she found him sitting at his desk scrabbling to hide something from view. "Didn't you ever hear of knocking Princess?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because you _never_ come striding into my room unannounced!" She carried on in and plopped down onto the bed. "Besides, we have solid walls and proper doors now. Maybe you should actually shut yours if you don't want to be disturbed."

He gave her a little nudge as he leaned back in the chair and kicked his legs up on the bed beside her. "I'm guessing you didn't come in here just to sass me?" he replied with a grin. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What's over there?" she asked, flicking her eyes to whatever Bellamy had thrown his jacket over when she'd arrived.

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Only with you. You can read me far too well."

"Let me guess… you got me for Secret Santa?"

He blinked. An affirmative.

"Yeah, well that makes you and apparently everyone else is Asphodel!" she sighed.

"What do you mean everyone? Ash gave me a gift about five minutes ago." He nodded to the new spear that was propped up by the door.

"Oh! But I got you too! I thought it was just to throw me off the scent."

A tentative knock interrupted them, as Monroe peered round the door frame. "Hi… Sorry to disturb you guys. I just wanted to give you your present." She tossed a parcel at Bellamy. "Have a good one… catch you later boss-man."

They watched the penny drop simultaneously in the other's eyes.

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><p>By lunchtime they were just about over the discomfort – neither was very good at accepting the sincere admiration of others. Although humility was a word rarely associated with Bellamy Blake (thanks to his ability to act like a total ass half the time around Clarke), neither of them had stopped to consider that their roles in the group were actually deserving of genuine praise. As far as they were concerned, they were just doing what needed to be done, and imperfectly at that – they hadn't realised the kids didn't see it that way. It was more than just respect, they were appreciated and they were loved. When the realisation finally dawned it had made Clarke cry.<p>

By nightfall they'd both amassed a range of sweet and/or practical gifts, and found themselves sitting down to a veritable banquet, scrubbed, and in new clothes.

"I don't think I've smelled this good since Mount Weather," Clarke sighed. She felt happy and blessed after today, if a little embarrassed at all the attention.

Bellamy glanced up involuntarily, looking away again quickly. She could read him like a book and she really didn't need to know that he was picturing sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, tucking any stray strands behind her ear… or how much he longed to stand behind her, nuzzling her neck, breathing her in.

She flushed at his reaction – his sudden embarrassment, the consciousness of what lay behind it, triggering a near identical image in her own mind. In her vision there was no table in the way… she was astride him in the chair as he trailed kisses along her neck and his fingers tangled in her hair.

She stood to clear the image from her brain. "We haven't exchanged our presents yet," she said a little too brightly.

"Do we have to?"

"What's up? It's not like you've forgotten. You were wrapping it when I came in first thing this morning." _Nothing gets past her._

"It's not that." _Did he actually sound nervous? Thank God! _Clearly she hadn't been the only one avoiding this all day.

"How about we do it together? On the count of three?"

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Mind out of the gutter Blake," she laughed. "You know what I mean."

They went to get the presents and stood facing one another, looking about as far removed from the confident leaders they were as they could get.

"On the count of three?"

"OK"

"1… 2… 3…"

They handed over the parcels, the one from Bellamy heavy enough that Clarke had to rest it on the table.

They tore at the wrapping. Bellamy unveiling what seemed at first to be a thin leather-bound book, until he opened it to reveal a stunning portrait of Octavia. Clarke, meanwhile, had discovered an ornate, hand carved box as the scarf he'd wrapped it in fell away. Her fingers traced the patterns and images, the moon in its phases, a diadem, and gorgeous threads of medicinal plants that could have been lifted straight from the pages of the Botanical Compendium she'd been working so hard on, carefully illustrating each entry… They spoke in unison.

"Oh, Bellamy it's beautiful!"

"Thanks Clarke, it's amazing!"

"There's two more..."

"Open it."

Bellamy was curious. He clearly loved it… why would Clarke still be nervous? He opened the other leaf of the tri-fold album.

There were indeed two more pictures, one of a busy day in Asphodel's town square, and…

"Mom?!... But how did you…?" He traced a finger over the image of his mother in wonder.

"Octavia described her to me and helped me get it close. I knew you didn't have anything of hers. I've got Dad's watch at least… so I thought…" She reached out to him, "Oh Bell! I'm sorry!"

He had begun to cry, silent tears streaking his face as he stared down at the portraits.

"I'm sorry Bell," she said softly, "I didn't want to upset you."

It felt strange. The number of times he had held her in his arms, cradling her as she cried, comforting her in her darkest moments… and now here she was, holding him close as he sobbed into her shoulder.

She'd seen him vulnerable of course… plenty of times. Even before they'd truly liked one another, they'd built a trust that had allowed them to break down in front of the other – it was the only way they could stay strong for everyone else. But this was different. He wasn't pushed to the brink, or needing an outlet at breaking-point – this was a release of sorts, him opening up, losing a weight he'd been carrying for far too long. And he'd never sought her out like this before, never found comfort in her physical embrace. Normally the touch of her hand or a kind word had been enough. She didn't think he'd clung onto her like this since she'd escaped from Mount Weather, so very long ago… overwhelmed to find her in his arms – alive – it had felt as though he had never wanted to let her go. And now, once again, he was holding her so tightly it was as if he feared they might be torn apart.

His voice was muffled, his face still hidden in the crook of her neck. "Thank you Clarke. I can't…"

She didn't know what to say, so she just held him.

He ghosted a reverential kiss on her cheek before letting her go. "Thank you."

Taken aback by the tenderness, she unwittingly traced the spot with her fingertips.

"Maybe you should open the box now?"

It took a moment to comprehend what he'd said, and another to break the gaze.

He watched her move to the table… her fingers fluttering over the carvings… undoing the clasp… How had he ended up here? From a life in ruins to this place… home, family, the most beautiful woman on Earth right here, her golden hair haloed in the candlelight, her gift to him the most precious he'd ever received – it was all Clarke… she was his saviour, his maker – Clarke had made him a better man.

Her gasp, as she lifted the lid, interrupted his reverie.

The box contained a necklace, and it was possibly the most beautiful object she'd ever seen. She lifted it out delicately, holding it up to the light. The stone was the colour of the sky on a perfect summer's day. The surrounding metalwork was somehow both natural like vines, and industrial like The Ark.

"I thought it matched your eyes."

"Thank you Bellamy! I've never seen anything like it. It's stunning." Walking over to the mirror, she went to put it on.

"Here… let me."

He brushed her hair out of the way, in a gesture eerily similar to the one in his earlier vision, and slipped the chain around her neck, his cold fingers making her start slightly as he fastened it securely. "Only the best for the woman I love."

Startled, their eyes met in the reflection, both a little mesmerized by the image they made and the words he'd just uttered so naturally.

He had said it because it was true. Her wide-eyed look of surprise as she spun round to face him made it even more so.

He took a step closer, a little sheepish now… "I hope that's OK?"

She still hadn't said anything, and was looking a little dazed… "King to Lionheart – do you copy?"

She laughed then, at his use of their radio call-signs. After that she simply couldn't stop beaming, not even as he kissed her.

It wasn't the first time they'd kissed. There had been drunken pecks, and the odd heated make-out session to release some tension or pent up aggression, not to mention the couple of occasions when they'd been so relieved to see each other that an embrace didn't quite cut it and peppered, thankful kisses had finished with a lingering one on the mouth, or that one time they'd feared it was their final good-bye.

This one though, it felt momentous somehow, like the world had shifted a little. There were tears in her eyes again, for the second time that day, as she felt she was brimming with joy.

He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, looking a little solemn until his grin shone through.

"I love you too Bellamy."

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><p>AN: In my headcanon for their settlement, Bellamy suggests they name it Asphodel. According to Wikipedia, in Ancient mythology: 'The soul would be sent to Elysium, Tartarus, Asphodel Fields, or the Fields of Punishment. The Elysian Fields were for the ones that lived pure lives. It consisted of green fields, valleys and mountains, everyone there was peaceful and contented, and the Sun always shone there… The Asphodel Fields were for a varied selection of human souls: Those whose sins equalled their goodness… or were not judged.'


	2. Christmas on The Ark

A/N: Kidfic (i.e. baby Bellamy - well twelve year old at least...) Also features my take on Ark cultural history...

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><p><strong>Day 2 – Christmas on The Ark<strong>

Any religious overtones to the holiday (that had been kept in some of the space stations for a while at least) had completely died out with the last astronaut who had been on the ground. The Old Religions had seemed to fade after the people of the Ark had witnessed the rest of the human race destroy each other, and after the war which had destroyed 13.

They had films and stories to tell them how Christmas used to be on Earth of course, but there were no festive feasts or present giving on The Ark – no Santa Claus, Hoteiosho or Snegurochka in space – not when everything was rationed by necessity. The American/Australian tradition of Holiday Pageants was not continued either. When the stations had joined, as Christmas had not been universally celebrated by all 12 nations, this kind of activity had instead been reserved for Unity Day.

Some of the songs had survived though, in the way that music often seems to transcend time and place, and find new meaning. They even had carol singers and concerts to mark the time of year – singing lots of the Earth classics (albeit with the lyrics amended in many of them), as well as some newer, Ark compositions.

Music from the archives got played too. "Baby, it's cold outside" had retained a certain resonance with the spacewalkers for instance. And the strains of 'Feliz Navidad' could always be heard on a loop towards the end of an evening's merriment – seeming to boom particularly loudly from Mecha station every year. For most on Mecha, it wasn't truly Christmas until Finn or Raven had bumped into them on the dance floor, as they played kiss-chase or twirled exuberantly, singing along loudly enough that people joked they would wake-up the Chancellor.

It was the time of year when Agro's production of moonshine was overlooked by the Guard. Christmas was a holiday, and they wanted to share in the fun and relaxation along with everyone else.

For Bellamy though, Christmas was very different. As a young boy he'd recognised the opportunity to bring a little magic into Octavia's life. For example, she was the only child on the Ark to receive a gift from Father Christmas – after all she was the best behaved, nicest little girl in all of space. Every year she would write him a letter and fall asleep with it under her pillow, and every year a reply would be waiting for her in the morning. She didn't know she was the only one, and that's why it was so special – for once she didn't feel any different from the other children on The Ark who she'd only ever been able to imagine.

While the rest of the Ark had adopted the Venezuelan tradition of sprucing up their homes for the season, the Blake household actually decorated. Not that you would notice when you first walked in – they had to keep it discreet for the inspections after all – but there were Christmas stars hidden throughout their quarters, and if you opened certain doors then there was no way you could forget it was Christmas!

Their favourite tradition though, was to work on the quilt. An ordinary blanket on one side, but when you turned it over… it was beautiful. They all worked on it together, every year, using what scraps Aurora could find no way to repurpose, to build up a visual delight that transformed their small rooms in B-17. While they were sewing, he would tell her stories of elves and Christmas fairies and Rudolph with his nose so bright. He lived to see her eyes light up with pure delight at the magic of it all.

It wasn't quite true to say there was no exchange of Christmas gifts on the Ark. A couple of Earth traditions had survived. The Japanese astronauts had shared their approach to Christmas Eve with the other stations. In Japan it had been a romantic day – not unlike Valentine's Day – and so it was a day often shared by couples on The Ark, who would occasionally give a romantic token to mark the day. The Chinese custom of giving apples as gifts on Christmas Eve had also been continued. Which was why Bellamy was trying to track down some apples for his Mom and O when he came across the blonde girl in the corridor. She couldn't be much older than his sister.

He hadn't expected to run into anyone. In fact he had come this way to specifically avoid unwelcome questions as people wondered why a twelve year old was wondering around on his own. Everyone should have been at home with their families or have just begun réveillons in one of the mess halls. The viewing deck should have been deserted. Now he hesitated, this girl was in the way. Would she just let him pass?

She hadn't noticed him yet. She was too busy staring at Earth… and humming?

He'd taken a step forward, without realising, in attempt to hear her… It was Silent Night (a largely forgotten carol that he knew from his research for O) – sung so softly, he could only just make out the words she sang.

Silent night, Holy night,  
>All is calm, all is bright,<br>Round and purging, Mother for child,  
>Wholly distant, so empty and wild,<br>Sleep in heavenly peace,  
>Heal in heavenly peace.<p>

She cut such a melancholy figure. No more than seven or eight years old, alone, in a dark corridor, singing to a toxic planet – almost like a lullaby. She looked as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. He took another step forward.

Then he remembered O. She was his sister and he was her world. He couldn't waste time tonight of all nights. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't risk talking to the girl in front of him. He was already finding it too difficult to tear himself away, but he needed to find some apples and get back home before he was missed.

As he lay in his bunk that night, he was dogged with thoughts of her. Who was she? Could she have become his friend? Had someone taught her the carol, or had she re-worded it herself? Did she dream about escaping to Earth as much as he did? What made her wish she could go? Not that it could ever happen of course – everyone knew it'd be four more generations before the earth was safe. It would be their great-great grandchildren who would be the first to set foot on the ground.

Bellamy didn't often indulge in things like making wishes. Life had taught him the hard way that they never came true. He actively discouraged O from making them, as he felt like such a failure when he couldn't make them come true for her. But maybe tonight he could make just one? … One little Christmas wish couldn't hurt? He thought of the girl. After she'd made her little pilgrimage to greet their lost planet, he hoped she'd gone back to her family and friends, and had had as merry a Christmas as he'd given O. That wasn't too much to ask was it?


	3. Mistletoe mishap

A/N: This is the smut I warned you about! Also some swearing. Only read if you're comfortable with explicit depictions of a sexual nature. Also features a hint of a dom/sub dynamic (but nothing too heavy on that front).

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><p><strong>Day 3 – Mistletoe mishap <strong>

"Hey Bellamy. Look at this."

She gestured towards the green plant with white berries, which appeared to be suspended in mid-air somehow, a little way in front of them.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

They both stepped closer to investigate, until they were almost directly beneath it…

The ground fell away beneath their feet, and they found themselves in a hole, a tangle of limbs, Clarke's elbow jabbing particularly painfully into his neck while his knee was trapping her arm on the ground.

"What the fuck?!"

"Shit!"

They finally managed to get to their feet, each immediately running their hands up the walls to see if they could climb out.

"What if I stood on your shoulders?"

"Worth a try," he grunted as she scrambled up his back.

It was just too deep. "No use, looks like were stuck in here for a while." She began to climb down when she saw it. "What the hell?!"

There was a cavity in the wall, with a blanket inside. When she pulled it out, she heard a clink. Wrapped inside there was a bottle, a couple of jars, and what looked like packets of food.

Bellamy gave a groan of recognition. "That's what Lincoln meant when he warned me to watch out for love traps. That must have been mistletoe."

Clarke gave a low growl and he didn't need to see her properly to know that her eyes were narrowed in annoyance. "You mean to tell me you were given a direct warning and we still ended up in this hole!"

"I didn't know he meant a literal love trap," he bit back.

That earned him a smack to the arm. "Then what the hell did you think he was warning you about?"

"I just thought he meant you might try and seduce me or something... Everyone knows you want me Clarke."

Another, much deserved smack. "In your dreams Blake."

He was glad it was too dark for her to read in his expression just how close to the mark she was.

Through gritted teeth she just about managed to keep her voice level. "So what exactly is this, and how long till we get out?"

He ran his hand through his hair, a little awkward. "I think this must be the Grounder equivalent of a practical joke... Do you know what mistletoe is?"

He could make out the shake of her head.

"It's a Christmas tradition. People used to hang it in doorways, and if you ended up beneath the mistletoe with someone then you had to kiss… so they've kind of taken it a step further I guess."

"You don't say?" she snarked.

"Of course, the way they've set it up, you'd normally trap people who'd be happy to spend a few hours alone together in a small, dark space… the supplies are kind of a nice touch actually… At least we won't go hungry," he said with a forced cheerfulness. "

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><p>The blanket had been spread on the ground, they'd found a candle in the cavity which they'd stuck in the wall and gave them a bit of light, but it wasn't until they'd sat down that they realised just how small the space was.<p>

Bellamy was so tall that there were only two position that were even remotely comfortable. It had been a choice between having Clarke between his legs, virtually on his lap, or for them to be sat almost side-by-side with her legs over his crotch. They'd gone for the latter, so they could occasionally look at one another as they conversed.

The wine helped ease the tension a little, and it was so oddly intimate that they often found it easier to stare straight ahead rather than to look at the other. Somehow they ended up talking frankly about things they'd never have dreamed of discussing with anyone – especially not each other!

Which is how Bellamy ended up offering to make her come.

"I've always wondered what it'd be like," she'd said. "I masturbate and stuff. It feels great and everything, but I've… you know… I've never climaxed. And I only did it the once with Finn, so we never got that far…"

Meanwhile Bellamy had opened up about his kink to be in control. "I like to set the pace, to the call the shots. There's nothing better than watching a woman come undone, of treating her so well that she's literally begging you to let her come."

And so they'd switched positions, so she was sat in his lap. "Do you ever think of me like that?" she'd asked, "you know… sexually."

He'd kissed her neck. "Are you kidding me!" he murmured. "I can honestly say I've dreamt about fucking you since the first day we landed on Earth."

"Oh!" She sounded surprised.

"Is that all you've got to say Princess?"

He was kissing her neck again, and had begun to unbutton her shirt. "I just didn't think I was your type. You always seemed to end up with the tall willowy girls…"

"Pure chance," he replied, as he began to tease her nipples through the fabric of her bra. "It's not about looks, it's about compatibility. Trust me Clarke, you're one of the sexiest girls on this planet, and with that smart mouth of yours I'd have taken you to bed over any one of them if you'd have given me the chance."

"My smart mouth huh?"

He pressed a fingertip to her lips and simply said, "Suck."

He must have coated it one of the sweet things from the food packets. She ran her tongue along the base and hollowed her cheeks as he pulled it out slowly.

"Good girl... and yes… most of my best fantasies start with you yelling at me. It's really quite a turn on when you're angry. It makes me think of the most pleasurable ways I could shut you up," he chuckled darkly.

"Well most of mine start with you taking your shirt off," she admitted. "When you were chopping wood last week I don't think I could think straight for an hour!"

He peeled off her shirt before tugging off his own. Her soft skin felt like fire against his bare chest.

"It's really not fair," she continued, "the most infuriating man on Earth, and you're basically sex on a stick."

He sucked a hickey on her shoulder at that, glad there was enough light for him to admire his mark.

"Ass," she laughed.

"So if this is where they start… shirt off… where do they finish?"

"Oh… I don't know…" she replied evasively.

"Try again," he commanded.

She couldn't quite believe that this (of all things) was what was making her blush. Not his hands on her breasts, or the feel of him growing hard, or his naked torso pressed against her own.

"It's OK," he added softly. "You can tell me."

"Well… I guess you're so much bigger than me… I don't notice often, but then suddenly I'm like hyper aware, and I can't help but imagine you crowding me against a wall, towering over me… even your fingers… you're hands are so much bigger than mine, I imagine you stretching me… and you're so strong, you could lift me up so easily and take me against a wall…"

His mouth was watering and she had actually rendered him speechless. He had to physically shake his head to clear the image, and address (or rather undress) the matter at hand.

As his administrations continued, the bra long since discarded, she began to squirm a little impatiently in his lap, making him even harder. He placed his hands on her hips to still her, "patience is a virtue Princess," before grinding into her at a steady pace… deliberate… slow… just shy of tortuous. She let out her first moan.

Minutes or hours later (she had no idea, she'd lost all sense of time to the overwhelming pleasure) she wasn't sure which was the more obscene, the noises she was making or the sound of his fingers driving in and out of her.

But before that he'd ordered her to stand. He'd peeled off her jeans tantalisingly slowly. She'd never been so aware of the rough texture of the fabric, as he'd inched it all the way down her legs.

Then his hands were on her arse, her knees buckling as he pulled her to him, hot mouth clamped to her mound, sucking through the already damp fabric of her panties, before stripping them off and casting them aside, still chuckling at the sounds of surprised gratification – clearly he'd been right to suspect she'd like to feel a little dirty.

Then she'd found herself back between his legs, acutely aware of her nakedness, as he teased his way closer to her clit. He whispered in her ear, telling her how beautiful she was, licking and blowing, heating and cooling, all the while tracing circles and zigzags ever closer, fingertips ghosting gradually higher along her thighs, and lower and lower down her abdomen. She began to think he'd never get there. But then he did!

And now here she was, being pushed beyond any point she'd managed to reach on her own before…

"God Bellamy," she was almost grunting at the intensity of the sensations he was eliciting, "you haven't even got your dick out yet!"

He couldn't help but smile with pride at her incredulity. "Just you wait… we've barely even started yet…" he replied with a gentle tweak of her nipple and a nip at her earlobe.

He didn't enter her until they were both standing up. She was right, he'd lifted her easily, and now her legs were wrapped around her waist, her back against the bare earth, her head thrown back as he kissed along her jawline.

The candle was burning low, but there was still enough light for her to meet his gaze to seek his permission. He nodded and she lowered herself onto him.

He'd so thoroughly prepared her that she barely needed to adjust before he was thrusting into her and making her stutter out. "OhMyGod… ohMygOd… oHmyGoD…"

She was clutching at his back desperately. He slowed down deliberately.

"Hands up Clarke." She responded instinctively, lifting her hands above her head, wrists together against the wall where he pinned them with his hand. It caused her to change position, to arch into him slightly, meaning he was hitting a spot that made her feel dizzy for a moment.

"Keep them there… for as long as you can… Will you do that for me Clarke?"

She couldn't form words, she could only nod.

Now that both his hands were free, he used them to lift her knees higher, changing the angles slightly again as he picked the pace up once more.

"That's it Princess… you're nearly there. Just hold on for me a little bit longer."

"UmmHmm," she managed.

He gave her two fingers to suck on as she began to keen.

Bellamy was beginning to lose it now. She looked absolutely wrecked, utterly wanton… carnal… he'd driven away her every care, until there was only him… them, now, fucking with abandon to gain her release. She was magnificent.

Her hands came down from the wall and tangled in his hair. He took his fingers from her mouth to return the gesture, bringing her head forward so her forehead touched his own.

"Please Bellamy…" she whispered.

He waited.

He trailed a hand down the length of her body till his fingertips reached her clit.

"Whenever you're ready Clarke."

She buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her cry. He kissed her once, chaste, as she came down from the high.

She clung to him limply for a while. He brushed the damp hair out of her face, and shushed her soft thank-yous.

He tucked the blanket around her as she fell asleep, before finishing himself off quietly. Then he joined her under the blanket and revelled in the feeling of her snuggling into him.

When they woke, the ate and drank and got dressed, with occasional chat interspersing the companionable silence.

As she heard voices and footsteps approaching, she snaked her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. "I just wanted to thank you for today," she said, "before we go back to reality."

"I should be the one thanking you," he replied, hugging her back, swaying a little. "That was one of the best days of my life Princess."

Once they were let out of the hole, they didn't discuss what they'd done. It was too much for them to deal with in the cold light of day… not that it stopped them from thinking about it… nor from building on what they'd started when they did (finally!) get together…


	4. Learning to toboggan

A/N: Drabble/filler. As I said before, once you've filled over half the prompts it seems silly not to fill them all!

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><p><strong>Day 4 – Learning to toboggan <strong>

Everything was too bright as his eyes fluttered open.

"What… the… hell," a voice snarled, "did you think you were doing?"

"Clarke?"

She came into view, towering over him, looking frighteningly pissed-off.

"So… go on! I simply cannot wait to hear your explanation for repeatedly jumping on a jagged sheet of metal so you could slide down a hill at ridiculous speeds, until you managed to knock yourself unconscious in a snowdrift?!"

"It was an accident?" he tried.

"Nope! It was idiotic and dangerous."

"It was fun?" he replied weakly.

"Well it wasn't fun for me," she said through gritted teeth. "Just imagine what you'd have been like if it'd been me they'd had to carry back here, white as a sheet, weak pulse, unresponsive…"

He blanched, he would have been beside himself. "I'm sorry Clarke. It was reckless and I'm so sorry."

"That's right!"

She clattered around for a while, taking her dwindling anger out on the instruments she'd been sorting before they'd brought him in.

At last she was calm. She sat beside him. "How are you feeling?" She took his hand in her own.

"OK I think. Not sure I want to sit up just yet though."

"That's pretty normal. You were out for quite a while back there. Just lie back and stay awake for me. Alright?"

"I really am sorry Clarke."

"That's OK." She smoothed back his hair and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. "Just don't ever do that to me again. Promise?"

"Promise!"


	5. First snowfall

A/N: Another drabble/filler.

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><p><strong>Day 5 – First snowfall<strong>

Clarke was woken by a cold stream of air as Bellamy burst through her tent flap with a cry of "Clarke! Come on! You have to see this!"

He didn't wait for a reply, but she could see his shadow outside as he hopped impatiently from foot to foot. She was too sleepy to register the change in the light.

She gave a sigh as she shoved off her warm covers and pulled on a few more layers and her boots.

"I'm warning you Blake, this had better be… Woah!"

Pure, white, glistening snow covered everything. The air was cold and crisp.

"You have to walk on it. It's amazing."

She took a tentative step, and heard a strange muffled sound as her foot compacted the snow.

She took a few more steps into the white expanse, then looked back at her footprints, marvelling at the weird sensation of walking maybe a centimetre above the solid ground.

Bellamy caught up with her. "Do you think we should wake the others?"

She hesitated. "No, not just yet… I know it's selfish. It's just that everything is so peaceful and untouched… I just want to enjoy it with you for a minute if that's alright?"

"Maybe we could go for a walk?" he suggested.

"That'd be lovely… We could go to Lincoln's? Maybe they're not up yet? But if we have a snowball fight you are not allowed to be on the same team as O!"

His grin grew even wider.


	6. NaughtyNice AU

A/N: What's shorter than a drabble? Lets call this a seven sentence shot! Can you tell I struggled creatively with this prompt?

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><p><strong>Day 6 – NaughtyNice AU **

"Oh come on! There's no way Santa's missing me out. I've been extremely good this year!"

"Are you quite sure about that Princess."

She bit her lip and slinked a little closer. "Well you know me Bell… it's nice to be a little naughty sometimes… don't cha think?"

The bell on his hat gave a jingle as he leant in for a kiss.


	7. Jasper the Bellarke Fanboy

A/N: Plotbunny!

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><p><strong>Day 7 – Jasper the Bellarke Fanboy <strong>

Bellamy had been chasing him round trying to get him to "Shut the hell up!"

Jasper had ended up in the branches of a tree, as he crowed out the final verse, while everyone else lay around the fire in fits of giggles, or else joined in as loudly, and as equally out of tune, as him…

"On the twelfth day of Christmas Clarke gave to Bell-a-meeee

Twelve heart-strings thrumming

Eleven mornings griping

Ten naughty visions when he's sleeping

Nine tries at not-so-subtle glancing

Eight looks full of meaning

Seven hours of love-filled gazing

Six stars a-wishing

Five hand-tied slings [seriously Bell, you're just getting injured so she has to patch you up, right?]

Four sharp words

Three French kisses

Two co-leader hugs

And his Princess bent over his kneeeeee!"

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><p>AN: But seriously though. I know it's not perfect! Way too many syllables and all that jazz (I just had to tell myself Jasper wouldn't have worried about that stuff - he'd have just made it fit!). But I really loved the idea, even if I couldn't get it quite right. If any of you can come up with alternative lyrics, I'd love to hear them!


	8. Christmas on the ground

A/N: Drabble

**Day 8 – Christmas on the ground **

The first Christmas they celebrated was their second on the Ground. The Grounders were finally at peace with the Sky People which was a relief, trying to murder or frame one another would have really killed the holiday mood!

Now that Mount Weather was deserted, they had its resources and facilities at their disposal. It was too tainted for either group to want to use it as a settlement, but it had allowed them all to be cleaner than they had been for months. The Grounders had particularly enjoyed the novelty of a steaming, pressurised shower.

It was at that Christmas that they decided to set up a new settlement. Bellamy and Clarke were to take up their former positions as co-leaders, and were to be joined primarily by the surviving forty-three, plus the majority of their families (what few had also made it down and were still in one-piece), as well as a number of Grounders.

The season of goodwill had eased the tension of the announcement, as the Grounders introduced some Yuletide traditions that had been lost to the Sky People, or that had developed since their ancestors had left the Earth.

Decorating a Christmas Tree had been particularly popular, and Wick and Raven had added to the magic when they introduced a string of electric bulbs into the mix.

On Christmas Day Bellamy and Clarke stood a little way off, watching the merriment unfold. Seeing everyone so relaxed, singing, dancing, having fun – mixing without any regard as to whether they were a delinquent or a Grounder, or what station they'd lived on in The Ark – they couldn't help but smile.

"We did good Bellamy."

He took her hand. "Yeah… we did."


	9. Baking xmas treats

A/N: Domestic drabble

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><p><strong>Day 9 – Baking xmas treats <strong>

A string of indistinct but very forceful expletives could be heard coming from the kitchen.

"Everything all right in here Princess?" Bellamy asked as he sauntered in.

He was confronted by a very grumpy Clarke who was clutching a tray and glaring at the blackened gingerbread reindeer. "They're burnt," she huffed.

"I can see that Princess." He didn't quite manage to hide the indulgent grin.

There was a clatter as she shoved the tray down. "It's not funny!"

The tears that had begun to well in her eyes wiped the smile off his face. _Shit! How do I fix this?_

He gathered her up in his arms, making soothing noises. She resisted at first, before finally relenting and letting herself mould to him. "Hey…" he rubbed slow circles on her back, "it's alright…" he kissed the top of her head gently "they're only cookies…"

She sniffed. "I know it's silly… I just wanted everything to be perfect."

"I've got you here, in my arms, in our home… Octavia will be here in a bit… everyone is safe, warm and happy… sounds pretty perfect to me." He lifted her chin so her watery eyes met his own. "Huh? Perfect or what?"

She stood on tiptoes to capture his mouth with her own. "Pretty damn perfect," she sighed.

He spied the icing that she'd got ready to decorate the treats, and dabbed a big blob on her nose.

Clarke gave a squeal before returning the favour with a swipe across his cheek.

By the time they were sat on the floor hopelessly trying to get their breath back, defeated by every renewed bought of laughter, they were finally silenced by the thought of how much fun they were going to have cleaning up. Clarke tasted even sweeter than normal that evening.


	10. Searching for a Christmas Tree

A/N: Drabble

**Day 10 – Searching for a Christmas Tree **

"How about this one?" she asked.

"Not big enough."

"That's what she said!"

"I've not had any complaints," he replied matter-of-factly.

Bellamy felt Clarke's eyes trail down his body before coming the rest at the aforementioned point. He raised his eyebrows when she finally tore her gaze away. She managed to look him in the eye for all of two seconds before blushing bright red.

"Um…" she was managing to look everywhere and anywhere but him, "… how about this one."

In her desperation to change the subject she'd managed to pick out the rattiest specimen they'd seen yet. He couldn't help but chuckle, and thank the stars she'd not yet caught him checking her out like that. Only a matter of time of course…


	11. Whatever it takes to keep warm

A/N: Drabble. This started out as another filler... but I quite like what emerged.

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><p><strong>Day 11 – Whatever it takes to keep warm <strong>

"My teeth are actually chattering… I didn't know what that even meant before we came to this stupid planet."

Clarke was getting worried, "We need a way to stay warm or we'll end up with hypothermia."

It had been novel when the cold snap first started. Jasper had been running around exhaling loudly and telling everyone he was a dragon as they watched his breath form water vapour in the air.

The novelty soon wore off as the temperatures continued to plummet.

"I read that penguins used to huddle… you know, to share body heat and all that."

"Hmm…" she didn't sound overly convinced.

"Or we could just go back inside…"

She looked through the window at the scene before her. It wasn't much better than before, but at least her mother and Kane had moved away from the mistletoe at last.

"OK," she said grudgingly. "Can't let you die of exposure on my account."

She tugged him back just as he was about to walk through the door… "Thanks… for keeping me company out here."

"You mean for freezing my ass off? Anytime Princess… anytime." He threw an arm round her shoulder as they re-entered the room and re-joined the festivities.


	12. Monty's eggnog shenanigans

A/N: You were warned... fluffy smut. (If you liked Day 3, sorry if this is a bit tame!)

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><p><strong>Day 12 – Monty's eggnog shenanigans<strong>

"Now _Mr _Blake…" she swayed a little as she prodded his chest, "what makes you think I want to take part in any of your shenan…" she tried again, "shenanin-nigans" before giving a snort of helpless laughter.

He could literally feel her shake with mirth, while he was barely able to contain his own.

"Because, Clarke, you're in my room… wearing a fucking gigantic red bow, and nothing else!"

She looked down as if she'd forgotten, "Oh yeah," and he lost it! She was the best, brightest, funniest thing he'd ever been lucky enough to call his own. He thought he was going to literally burst with joy.

He rocked towards her and whispered loudly in her ear, "Not that I'm complaining…" triggering another fit of sniggering.

"Sorry Bell. You're come hither voice doesn't work too well when you've been drinking Monty's eggnog."

Was that a challenge? He kissed her so thoroughly every thought was driven from her mind except for "Bellamy…" which fell breathily from her lips when they finally parted for air… one word, laced with need.

"I'm right here for you Princess."

She reached out to touch him, "I can see that," she replied with a wanton grin and a wiggle of the eyebrows.

"Not yet Clarke… ladies first."

"What a gentleman!"

He gave a low, hungry growl. "You're so wet for me Clarke," he whispered wonderingly.

She mewled as he began to kiss her, adding another two fingers to help bring her off.

Tonight was not a night for love-making. "Please Bell," she panted, "just fuck me already."

His Princess didn't need to ask him twice.

Their fingers were entwined, her hands pinned above her head as she arched into him, while he teased her entrance with his length. He grunted her name as he thrust into her, before kissing her whimpers of pleasure away.

After that performance he deserved to look a little smug. "Merry Christmas Clarke," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas Bell," she sighed.

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><p>AN: Hope you all had a lovely Christmas! Wishing you a fantastic 2015 :)


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